Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 127

Chapter 127: Carefully chosen words
Anaisa’s heart stopped for a moment, and then restarted as she stared at Sanders.

“You’re sure? You’re sure that no one you’ve ever met was adopted?”

The implications of his statement made her ears thunder, and she struggled to stay calm while she awaited his answer.

“I choose words carefully.” He looked at her seriously and her anxiety exploded into fury.

“What can I do? How can I prove it? How can I stop Barnabas?” Anaisa lowered her voice desperately, and Sanders’ mouth formed into a thin line. “Why would Father confess such a vile lie?”

Her mind reeled. Her heart pounded.

Sanders waited several moments again. He seemed to be struggling answering her directly, and once again he seemed to steer the conversation in a new direction.

“How is your marriage? I never married, but I always imagined that clear communication would be the biggest challenge for a new couple.”

Anaisa blinked, trying to piece together the newest riddle. “Yes, communication can be difficult,” she admitted, remembering how Trace had suffered terribly trying to show her something in his dream, “do you have any advice on how to improve it?”

“I find that often, when a man is trying to tell his wife something, she hears what he says rather than what he means.”

Anaisa lifted her eyes to stare at the man. “Then I must learn to hear what he means, I suppose.”

Sanders’ answering smile held intense relief, and he sighed.

“There has been no reason for him to come see me recently, but I am curious about his… progress.” The official said. “Ask him for me, will you?”

“I will,” Anaisa nodded quietly. “I sense you want me to leave now, and I trust that there is a good reason for that… but you will not tell me what it is.”

“Trace married a very clever woman.”

Anaisa pursed her lips as she stood. “Then I will take my leave and hide in my room for a time.”

“Yes, a very clever woman indeed,” Sanders mouth tipped up at the corners as he went back to staring out the window.

She shook her head, baffled and with much to think about.

Her father had lied about being adopted, but why? Sanders was kept from speaking plainly, and Trace couldn’t talk about what he wanted to tell her. All these must be related.

Barnabas was the key somehow, but he hadn’t had any magic that she knew of. Sanders had implied that the developments were recent. That he’d only met Barnabas recently…

She stood to go, sparing a final smile for Sanders as he continued to stare out the window. As she opened the door to leave, she could have sworn she heard the man whisper to himself.

“I hear you, Emily. I’m trying.”

She mused over it only a moment; there was too much else to think of. All the pieces were in her mind, but she still couldn’t get them all to fit quite right. How exactly was Barnabas controlling people? How had he controlled her father? The man had been a scoundrel, but he had been family.

Anaisa felt a fool. When the king had told her there was no revenge to be had, that her father truly was guilty of the crimes he’d been accused of, her world had broken. She’d had no real identity, and then immediately been poisoned and subjected to physical torture as well as mental anguish.

She’d only really begun processing and moving past all of it, and now?

Her stomach churned. The king obviously didn’t know the truth. He needed to know. She needed to prove it. Getting her life back was within her grasp, if only she had the ability and opportunity to convince the king…

In the hallway, she scurried back to her part of the palace, taking shelter in the princess’s chambers, and began pacing.

If Barnabas controlled others, why not the king? If he could control Trace to an extend, control Sanders, control her father…

The queen! She had said she was the king’s shield, from magical attacks! Anaisa breathed a sigh of relief. Whether Barnabas himself had somehow acquired magic, or had someone working for him to do it, the king was safe. She just had to find a way to be believed…

She sat back at the desk just as Sapphira and Trace returned.

“I can’t!” The princess was ranting. “I won’t! I refuse to let him choose for me!”

“He’s your father, and the king.” Trace reminded her.

“He’ll have to execute me first!” Sapphira threw herself dramatically across the fainting couch of her sitting room, and Anaisa frowned.

“Who did he choose?” She asked quietly.

“He’s going to tell me tomorrow,” The princess sighed, “but there’s been almost nobody even remotely promising so far!”

“Why don’t you save the dramatics for when you know who you’re being betrothed to? It might not be so terrible.” Anaisa tried to keep her mild amusement at bay. She knew how nerve-wracking it was to not have any choice in who you would be bound to for a lifetime.

She glanced at Trace. She was by far the most fortunate of the brides in her grouping; the other grooms were nothing to brag about, while she had gotten a handsome, kind husband who showed genuine concern for her well-being… if only he weren’t a magic user caught up in a complicated plot!

If she’d known right away, she would have been deeply relieved, perhaps even excited, that her husband had every motivation to take down the man that had ruined her life. But having been free of the motivation for revenge these past few weeks had been almost peaceful, at least, internally.

If not for the plot, and the uncertainty of the future, there was almost a contentment in accepting one’s lot in life and not striving for more.

“You’re right, Annie,” Sapphira sighed. “I guess tomorrow is soon enough to throw a tantrum. I’ll demand a good dinner from the cooks to celebrate my last evening of blissful ignorance of what man I’ll have the unfortunate duty of enduring for the rest of my life!”